I Like Cheese, by Gilderoy Lockhart
by The Marauders
Summary: Er . . . just what the title says. By Prongs, inspiration from Moony. R&R PLEEAASSEEE!
1. Brie and Such Fanciful Things

(a mad creation by Prongs, of the_marauders, inc.)  
  
(stole the "and by fair . . . less beautiful than {me}" line from Moony)  
  
  
  
I Like Cheese  
  
by Gilderoy Lockhart  
  
  
  
chapter one: brie cheese  
  
  
  
Goodday to you all, fair readers. And by fair, I mean, less beautiful than the radient, shimmering beauty that is I. My first chapter, intended to be read on a sunny day, when the birds are chirping and flying over the blue sky, reflecting on the water near the palace gates, like they did for me while I was in India, tasting a most delicious cheddar variation. That, however, is for a later chapter - this chapter is the facinating encounter with Brie cheese in my childhood.  
  
I was a beautiful child; my mother won twelve pounds for me in a child beauty contest in Muggle London. My father prohibited me from going into Muggle London after that, claiming I was far too beautiful, and that the Muggles were going to get suspicious. That, of course, was right during the whole messy "Voldemort" thing. I prefer not to get into that right now, that is a most humorous chapter later on called "101 Ways to Eat Mozerella," in which I fought to the death with him, most ugly creature. It hurt my eyes to battle against such a hideous foe, it really did. Enough talking about him, though, let's talk about ME.  
  
As I was saying, I was a terribly beautiful child, I knew that no one, not even Helen of Troy herself could compare to me. My mother advised that I do not eat those delicious grilled cheese sandwiches - she said it would ruin my supple complexion, and make me have spots. I, however, wanted cheese, more than anything else in the world. I would go to school with my healthy, crisp lettuce and cucumber sandwitch, with a little fat- free margirine on the healthy brown bread, to mind my weight, and watch the other children eat their fatty, sloppy, delicious grilled cheese sandwitches. That was, of course, before they began begging me to bless their presence with my beauty and grace at that most prestigious (less prestigious than me, of course) academy, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was there that I learned I could eat all of the cheese I wanted. And, oh, I did!  
  
My very first encounter with cheese was right before I entered Hogwarts, actually - my annual trip to France. My parents wandered off to the Louvre together, leaving me to explore. I was quite content - I am in my element in Paris, honestly, the most beautiful city in the world, it really is. However, it doesn't even hold a candle to me. Where was I? Oh, right, the cheese - I wandered around, and alas, what did I find, but a stand selling Brie cheese. Pulling some of that crazy paper money the silly muggles have - Francs, I think they called it - I gave it to the French man (who was wearing a rather stylish French outfit . . . I adored the leather pants. But when I asked his designer, he didn't know. Shame, really, they would have looked absolutely gorgeous on my boyish figure). The man then handed me a rather large block of cheese, which I devoured greedily. I had not time to notice the splendid shape of the cheese. The creamy colour and silky texture, how light it was and how the late afternoon sun glinted off it. It smelt heavenly, filling my nostrils with a most desirable scent - like that of a lover (believe me, I've had my fair share). The taste was indescribable; the rich, lucious flavours, the deep, musky aftertaste, the delicious feeling of it sliding down one's throat, delicious, intoxicating, almost sensual. I loved that cheese - it was then that I realized what my one true passion (after myself, of course) was - cheese. I craved more. I needed it, I wanted it. Greedily but graciously, to be sure, I bought more of the heavenly creamy chunks and slid them into my robes. 


	2. Japanese Kappas and Cheddar Cheese

the insane yet lovely miss prongs treats you to a second helping of:  
  
I Like Cheese  
  
by Gilderoy Lockhart  
  
chapter two: japanese kappas and cheddar cheese  
  
  
  
My next chapter is a wonderful tale of a story that happened to the oh, so dashing Gilderoy - yes, that's right, myself, me, I , moi. It happened the Christmas break of my first year at Hogwarts. I had a miserable year. No one respected my beauty! No one cared about me! I was . . . I was a Slytherin. I couldn't believe it. Can you imagine my shock? The shock of my lovely (not as lovely as I, but lovelier than most) Hufflepuff parents? The hat said it was because of my vanity. Vanity? Ha! The hat just doesn't recognize beauty when it sees it.  
  
My parents, dissapointed, yet seeing how depressed I was and how it was dampening my eternal light, took me on a trip to Japan. Maybe . . . was it China? Or Korea . . .? No, I am quite sure it was Japan. I as sure that it was Japan as I am sure my hair is a golden, radient blonde. My parents had gone out to traditional Japanese theater, and, once again, had left me alone, with only my toys for company. I was very lonely, and decided to go exploring. I remembered my brief encouter with that lovely substance called cheese just months earlier, and decided to go searching for that blessed substance.  
  
For hours I wandered, feet weary, and eyes tired of searching, until I at last came across a small establishment bearing an American flag, as well as a very strange flag with a sort of red leaf on it. Curious as to what an American flag could be doing tarnishing the beautiful ( . . . not as beautiful as me) culture of Japan, and curious as to what in Merlin's sake was the other . . . thing, I stepped inside.  
  
Even thinking of what I saw in there makes my knees go weak and my . . . It was cheese! Mounds and mounds of cheese! Only it was not that lovely creamy color of the brie, it was orange. A beautiful, exotic bright orange. It made sweat run down my  
  
handsome forehead. I had to mop my forehead with the edge of my powder pink robes. The man behind the counter asked what I wanted, in a rather rude, not to mention crude, American accent. I asked him for a lump of that thick, enticing substance.  
  
He then proceeded to ask me if I was mentally sane. The conversation went along these lines:  
  
Man: Are you insane?  
  
Moi: Excuse me, my good sir. As in good, I mean, not as good as me!  
  
Man: Right . . .  
  
Moi: May I purchase some of that sensual, orange cheese you have there?  
  
Man: Okay . . . Well . . . would you like good old American cheese or some of that Canadian crap?  
  
At that point, a very large, red, woman's shoe came flying out from behind the door and hit the man rather squarely on the forehead, causing him to fall over. A woman's voice was heard in the background -  
  
Woman: Teach you to insult us Canadians, you damn American yank!  
  
I proceeded to ask if I could purchase some cheese, and when there was no answer, I slipped behind the counter and took a large lump, leaving a sum of paper money for the owner of the shoe, or the crude American, whichever got there first.  
  
Carrying my large chunk of Cheddar cheese, as that is what the substance was called, I walked out into the bustling streets of Japan to devour my tantalizing purchase. 


	3. Blue Cheese - Heh Heh Heh Hon Hon Hon!

once again, miss prongs brings you:  
  
(the words pugnant and uninspitable are nonsense - I'm running out of adjectives)  
  
  
  
I Like Cheese  
  
by Gilderoy Lockhart  
  
  
  
chapter three: Blue Cheese  
  
My next encounter happened at Hogwarts, during my second year. This story is somewhat tinged with sadness, as I remember the Slytherin dorms during that year. It was hard living with people like that when you looked like you belonged at Beauxbatons.  
  
However, that has nothing to do with the wonderfully pugnant, uninspitable cheese that I found in the kitchens one stormy night. Seeking refuge from the cruel taunts of the seventh years, namely Narcissia and Lucius, to a lesser degree that most adored Professor, Severus, not to mention names or point fingers, of course. I gracefully slipped out of the commons room and into the darkened hallways of the dungeons. I made my way to the kitchens in my powdery blue nighty, and managed to find myself locked in a walk-in freezer Hogwarts used to store their more perishable items. It was very cold in there; I worried I would get split ends, and my hair would be utterly ruined from the humidity and sharp contrast of temperature. Also, my skin was turning slightly purple, something that had been bothering me for quite some time.  
  
After a few hours, and very unsucessful magical attempts at rescuing myself, I, the frail beauty that I am, began to be filled with an absolute hunger that made my lovely firm stomach growl like an excited tiger. I looked around vainly for food that did not need magical preparation (and was not too high in fat) and to my delighted surprise, found yet another variety of cheese - blue cheese.  
  
It smelt enrapturing - I inhaled deeply, despite the fact that my nose was now froozing and purple from the cold, and the scent filled me with hope and desire. I longed to eat the cheese - the temptation was too much. It excited me, just the look of it - the pure white skin, dotted with the deep, rich blue . . . I bit into it, tasting the soft, supple ripeness of the cheese. Piercing the outer layer, the skin, was so powerful, so exillarating, that I just HAD to have more . . . and more . . .  
  
By the time they found me, early in the morning, I wasn't quite able to think and my fingers had turned quite black. I lay in the Hospital Wing for days, and what took place in those days is utterly unbeknownst to me. However, you will be contented to know my split ends were treated thanks to a wonderful potion by a very talented seventh year Slytherin, Estee Lauder - I believe she is rather well known to muggles. 


	4. Mozerella! Mozerella! Mee Hoh Mai!

from the clinically insane mind of miss prongs  
  
  
  
I Like Cheese  
  
by Gilderoy Lockhart  
  
  
  
chapter four: one hundred and one ways to eat mozerella  
  
  
  
This chapter will provide you with both a facinating tale and a handy reference guide. I shall start with the tale - the reference guide is attatched, you can look at it later. Not now! Turn back to this page THIS INSTANT! Please, never make me yell, it stretches my face and gives me premature wrinkles.  
  
As I was saying, I graduated from Hogwarts when oldie Voldie - well, laugh, I made a joke! That's better - was in his prime. He ruled much of the wizarding world. It was right before the whole Harry Potter incident - speaking of Mr. Potter, has fame really gotten to his head! But if he plays his cards right, like I did, he could be sitting here, writing his tales - anyways, I was walking down the street when I chanced to bump into Mr. Voldemort and some of his friends. Lucius Malfoy, not to name names. Anyways, Mr. Voldemort proclaimed that he was supreme ruler and therefore, better than I. Me, the prestigious, most beautiful, personnification of Apollo - darling, I make Apollo look ugly - being lower in stature than Mouldie Old Voldemort? I dare say I thought not.  
  
I refused to heed his warnings and relent; I was not going to let him conquer moi, Gilderoy Lockhart! And so I whipped out my wand, and prepared to do battle:  
  
Moi: Alas - behold, my wand!  
  
Voldie: Is that it?  
  
Moi: Yes, why?  
  
Voldie: What are you doing to it, man? It's rather blue!  
  
Moi: Well, I happen to like it being powdered blue. It's gentle, and a very cooling color. .  
  
Voldie: My wand's much longer than that!  
  
Moi: Alas! So now you have a better - longer - wand than I, Gilderoy Lockhart? Whip it out, and let's compare lengths!  
  
A rather nasty battle ensued. I was on the winning end, most of the time. I shot curse after curse, and nearly had Voldemort beat, before I relented, and allowed him mercy. Then I shooed him and his friends on their way, with the contented knowledge that I was the better wizard.  
  
How I woke up, bleeding and broken bones, in the middle of the street, was beyond my knowledge. I was in St. Mungo's for a few months, you know. I regret to tell you, dear reader, though I must be honest, that I was not the most beautiful person, the very most lovely and inspitible to look at, during that time, as I was badly bruised and cut. However, you may be most pleased to note that during that time, I was treated to the delicious porcelain whitness that is mozerella cheese, and I managed to compose "101 Ways To Eat Mozerella," for the benefit of all you dear readers. It is on the next page . . . go on, you may turn the page now. Not too quickly, though, you'll ruin my hair. 


	5. One Hundred and One Ways to Eat Mozerell...

Gilderoy Lockhart's One Hundred and One Ways to Eat Mozerella  
  
101. In an omlette  
  
100. In a mushroom omlette  
  
99. With baked beans  
  
98. On toast  
  
97. In ice cream  
  
96. In jello  
  
95. On merangue pie  
  
94. On apple pie  
  
93. In a milkshake  
  
92. In a fondue with strawberries  
  
91. On a hotdog  
  
90. In cubes with carrots  
  
89. In cubes with celery  
  
88. On it's own, melted  
  
87. On it's own, fried  
  
86. With toothpaste  
  
85. With shrimp  
  
84. With artichokes  
  
83. On fettuchini alphredo  
  
82. In brownies  
  
81. In a sandwich  
  
80. With cheddar cheese  
  
79. With brie cheese  
  
78. With Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans  
  
77. With chocolate frogs  
  
76. With fizzing whisbies  
  
75. In a stirfry  
  
74. With chicken  
  
73. Topping chicken nuggets  
  
72. On tautties and stew  
  
71. On baked potatoes  
  
70. On mashed potatoes  
  
69. On cooked peas and carrots  
  
68. With butterbeer  
  
67. In tea  
  
66. With a cookie  
  
65. Wearing a Weasley Jumper  
  
64. With raw veal  
  
63. Boiled eggs  
  
62. With hamburgers  
  
61. With crackers  
  
60. With chocolate cake  
  
59. With vanilla cake  
  
58. With christmas pudding  
  
57. With an orange  
  
56. With an apple  
  
55. With a saussage  
  
54. Sliced and topping cereal  
  
53. In porridge  
  
52. In salad  
  
51. In pasta  
  
50. On pizza  
  
49. With steak  
  
48. With beef  
  
47. With gravy  
  
46. While writing your autobiography  
  
45. With paper  
  
44. With lizards, prefferably chamelons  
  
43. With charred rats  
  
42. With fava beans and a nice chianti  
  
41. With Australian dingo  
  
40. With Abbostfordian cyotes  
  
39. With your ex-headmaster  
  
38. With lettuce  
  
37. With bananas and strawberry jam  
  
36. With marmite  
  
35. On chocolate  
  
33. On easter eggs  
  
32. On purple ketchup  
  
31. On green eggs and ham  
  
32. On jam  
  
30. On Ham  
  
29. With scrambled eggs  
  
28. With chicken noodle soup  
  
27. With broth  
  
26. With warm blood  
  
25. With red peppers  
  
24. With green peppers  
  
23. Alongside smoked salmon  
  
22. With wild rice  
  
21. As a sidedish for anchovies  
  
20. On extra-extra cheese pizza  
  
19. On chips  
  
18. On fish  
  
17. On fish and chips  
  
16. With someone's frontal lobe  
  
15. On a nice french bread  
  
14. On potatoe chips  
  
13. As a dipping sauce for breadsticks  
  
12. With pumpernickle bread and dip  
  
11. With salmon  
  
10. With Spam  
  
9. With Spam n' Ham  
  
8. With Spam n' Ham n' Eggs  
  
7. With Spam 'n Ham 'n Ham 'n Eggs  
  
6. With Spam 'n Spam 'n Ham  
  
5. With Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam 'n Ham n' Eggs  
  
4. With Spam 'n Spam n' Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam 'n Roast Beef  
  
3. With Spam 'n Spam n' Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam n' Spam n' Spam 'n a Danish  
  
2. With Spam 'n Spam n' Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam 'n Spam n' Spam n' Spam 'n Spam  
  
1. Grilled Cheese Sandwitch 


End file.
